


What kind of rock is this? (Sedimentary, my dear Watson.)

by piratekelly



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Blatant Ripoff of a Buffy Episode, Case Fic, Costumes, Crack, Curses, Established Relationship, Fluff, Gen, Halloween, Holidays, Humor, M/M, Obscure Pop Culture References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-01
Updated: 2016-11-01
Packaged: 2018-08-28 08:59:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8439451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piratekelly/pseuds/piratekelly
Summary: It’s Halloween, and for once, a wrong turn of events isn’t Steve’s fault.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is all Chiomi's fault. All of it. Blame her.
> 
> The title is a rock pun. Get out while you still can, it doesn't get less weird from here.
> 
> HAPPY HALLOWEEN.
> 
> (For the most part, unbeta'd, so all mistakes - and there are many - are my own.)

\--

 

Steve is sitting in the driver’s seat of the Camaro, adjusting what has to be the single most uncomfortable seashell bra to ever be mass produced, and curses Mary’s inability to find even the most ridiculous costumes in an adult size. He doesn’t care if she’s a lot smaller than he is, if he’s going to lose their annual costume bet then she has to at least concede on a few things, and making sure accessories don’t restrict his breathing has to be one.

 

He thinks about that for a minute, pausing to stare out the windshield. There’s a fire burning bright and wild on the beach in front of Kamekona’s food truck, people milling around in the sand with Solo cups in their hands, laughing and dressed in their finest Halloween wares. He’s a little bit bitter that they’ve been called away, but such is his life.

 

“You done?” Danny asks from the passenger seat.

 

Steve’s pretty sure that if this were a movie, this would be the moment where the record scratches. He would look up, address the audience with some cliche phrase like: “You’re probably wondering how I got here.”

 

As he flips the hair from his wig back over his shoulder, he admits to himself that he’s wondering the same thing.

 

He doesn’t dignify Danny with a response, instead starting the car and peeling out of the lot, pointing their faithful steed toward the Bishop Museum.

 

In hindsight, he probably should have seen this coming.

 

\--

 

_ Two days earlier _ .

 

Fresh off a drug bust - marijuana this time, no cocaine to blow up, much to Steve’s dismay - the team heads to the Shrimp Truck for a celebratory lunch on the Governor’s dime. It’s another beautiful day in paradise, with the ocean stretching out for miles before them, the smell of salt water and hibiscus permeating the air with the sizzle and pop of food in the background as Flippa works away in the kitchen. They’re all in for a nice afternoon of paperwork and weapons cleaning and ammo inventory when they head back to the Palace, and it’s one of the better days they’ve had in the last few weeks. If given a choice between grinding out high solve rates at unprecedented speeds or simple paperwork, they’ll more often than not take the mundane tasks of running an elite task force any day. They’re due a little relaxation after solving two homicides, a kidnapping, and one case involving a lot of missing bananas that they will never, not even under pain of death, ever discuss with another living soul.

 

So with no new cases on the horizon, they’re all looking forward to a few days of sleep and surfing before something inevitably pops up and wears them down again. With Halloween around the corner, Kono will probably spend the time reconnecting with Adam, Chin will probably take Sarah trick-or-treating with Abby, and Steve is considering turning on the old Smooth Dog charm and inviting Danny over for a little popcorn and a scary movie. They haven’t had a lot of time to themselves lately, and using a truly flimsy excuse to get into Danny’s pants should make him laugh.

 

All of that goes out the window, though, when Kamekona invites them to a party he’s throwing at that very location in a few nights.

 

It’s the first Halloween they’ll have off since their task force had been established (then dismantled, then re-established and, well, you get the picture) so when Kamekona extends the offer to them with promises of good food and better company, Steve accepts immediately, and others are quick to follow.

 

“Costumes are required,” he’d said, raising a finger to silence the objections sitting on the tip of Danny’s tongue. “No exceptions.”

 

Danny grumbles for a bit, but concedes.

 

“And the cape you wore at my house when Grace was little doesn’t count,” Steve adds.

 

He may - discretely, of course - receive a certain one-finger salute in response. He admits to nothing.

 

\--

 

_ Halloween Night _

 

“Steve!” Danny shouts, letting himself into Steve’s house. He pulls at the neck of his sweater and wonders, not for the first time, why he let Grace have carte blanche over his costume this year. It may be October, but that doesn’t mean much in Hawaii. It’s still hot, even as the sun is setting, and he’ll be lucky if he doesn’t sweat through his makeup. Which...is a thought he never anticipated having, but such is the nature of his life anymore.

 

And then Steve walks out, and he’s not worried about sweating it off. Rather, he’ll be surprised if it survives the tears of laughter rolling down his cheeks.

 

He’s wearing a bright red wig, hair perfectly curled as it gently rests over his - waxed? - chest, pecs that Danny is fairly fond of are covered by purple seashells so tiny they may as well not be there at all. It’s possible that his chest just makes them look small, but his train of thought derails the further his gaze drifts downward. He happily notes that at least Steve’s happy trail survived the transformation, even if it does look a little out of place, pulling his attention just a few inches further, leading down to a pair of tight blue-green pants that are frayed around the ankle, he supposes to give the illusion of fins.

 

Danny wants to say something, but he’s too busy laughing.

 

Steve smirks, crossing his arms in front of his chest in a way that’s much more intimidating when he’s wearing a gun and badge. And a shirt. “That’s really cute of you, Danny. Who decided on your costume, huh? Was it Grace? I bet it was Grace.”

 

Danny wipes a tear from the corner of his eye. “She said I could stand to be quiet for a night.”

 

“Well,” Steve says, patting Danny on the shoulder as he walks over to the front door. “She isn’t wrong about that.”

 

\--

 

The sun is disappearing beneath the horizon when Danny parks the car.

 

“Do you need me to open the door for you?” Danny asks, all butter wouldn’t melt, and Steve punches him in the arm in response. “That’s not very ladylike, Steven.”

 

Steve opens the door and lets himself out. Danny has no idea how he doesn’t rip those pants right down the middle, they’re so tight. “Anyone tell you lately that you’re kind of a dick?”

 

“Anyone tell you that you can totally see yours in those pants?”

 

He gets the car door slamming in response.

 

Danny was only half joking anyway. Steve will figure it out at some point.

 

\--

 

Yeah. He abso _ lutely _ should have seen this coming

 

\--

 

He’s kind of glad that Chin and Kono were late getting to the party, because that means they were able to kick out all the rookies who wanted nothing more than to be at the HPD Halloween party, so by the time Steve and Danny arrive at the Museum, only necessary personnel are there.

 

It also means that they get their case information from Chin, who is very authentically dressed as Elvis.

 

“Did Jerry help you with that getup, Mr. Hunka Hunka Burning Love?” Danny asks, grinning. First Steve as a Disney princess, now Chin as the King himself. This is the best day of his life, caked-on face paint and all.

 

“You’re very funny, Marcel. You should definitely get a little more in character, it’d really channel the spirit of the holiday,” Chin replies.

  
Before Danny can offer a witty reply, Steve practically swaggers into the room, now wearing a deep blue dress shirt, though he’s left it unbuttoned.

 

“Kono,” Steve says, approaching her with a tablet in hand. “What’s up?”

 

“Also, where is your costume?” Danny asks. The room is silent, and even Chin is staring at him like he’s an idiot. “What? I’m just saying that if I have to suffer through this, then so do the rest of you.”

 

Kono sighs, opening up her notes. “Got the call before I could finish getting ready. But if it makes you feel better, I’ll be all dressed up like a pretty, pretty princess by the time we make it back to HQ.”

 

“If you’re done,” Chin interrupts, pointing them to the exhibit down the hall. “Can we get to work?”

 

Steve nods and takes the lead down the hall, all of them following like a little group of ducklings trailing after their mom, listening as Chin recounts the events of the evening.

 

“About an hour ago the silent alarm alerted HPD to a break-in here at the museum. A couple of display cases were smashed, some priceless artifacts were stolen, but for the most part everything is still here. They definitely knew what they were coming for.”

 

“Let’s get all of this back to the Palace, have the lab scan for fingerprints and DNA,” Steve says, motioning for CSU to come over and collect what they can. “Maybe there will be fibers on the broken glass. It’d be pretty easy to cut yourself doing a smash and grab like this.”

 

“Excellent,” Danny replies, gesturing toward Chin. “We can even have Elvis over here enter it into evidence so that we can find whoever graciously ruined our night off and make them do a little Jailhouse Rock.”

 

Kono rolls her eyes and walks over to CSU to give them instructions, barking orders left and right because she’s Kono and because she can. Steve grins to himself, because he’s Steve and Kono forcefully bossing people around is definitely a trait she picked up from him. Chin just flicks Danny in the middle of the forehead and walks off, bejeweled coat floating in the air behind him.

 

All in all, he’s had worse experiences at crime scenes.

 

He thinks about the bananas and shudders.

 

\--

 

Steve, Danny, and Chin are already at HQ downloading security footage to run through all their databases when Kono arrives, evidence in hand, just released from processing in the lab.

 

Kono walks in, flowing red fabric draped over one shoulder, cascading down her body as though she were surrounded by firelight. Her hair is down, wavy and wild as it hangs below her shoulders; she’s wearing a nude colored shirt, making it seem as though she were nude from the waist up. Atop her head sits a crown of red hibiscus, the sweet scent permeating headquarters as she moves to meet them.

 

“Good news, guys,” she says, handing the box over to Steve. “We have a partial print. Bad news, nothing comes back from IAFIS. Hopefully something shows up on the footage, because without facial recognition, we have no idea who this guy is.”

 

“Not to completely derail the conversation here, but I think I speak for everyone here when I ask, who are _you_ supposed to be?” Danny asks. He can’t help but notice that her feet are bare, reminds himself that she’s sneaky enough with shoes _on_ , but she’s practically silent without them. It’s absolutely horrifying.

 

“Do you really not know, haole?” she asks.

 

“All I know right now is that I am a lucky man to be in the presence of such a goddess.”

 

“Pele  _ is _ a goddess,” she replies, eyes focused on the report in her hands as she walks toward her office. “It’s only fair that a modern marvel such as myself pay tribute to those who came before her.”

 

Danny scrunches up his face in confusion. “I like to think I know a little bit about a lot of things, and I don’t remember him  _ ever  _ dressing up like that.”

 

“Six years, Danny,” Chin groans, booting up the computer table. “Six years and you’ve learned nothing about our culture.”

 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Danny gripes, leaning against the monitor. “Remind me again, when was I meant to have time to do that when Ariel over there is constantly trying to get me blown up, shot, drowned, stabbed --”

 

Kono snorts, looking Steve up and down. “Ariel? Hardly. He looks like the love child of Lil Kim and Jessica Rabbit, but with fins.”

 

“Jesus, Danny, would you let it go already?” Steve makes his way over to them, the box of artifacts in his hands. He doesn’t even bother dignifying Kono’s remark with a response. “We haven’t been near explosives in at least a week.”

 

“That's only because Dennings denied your request for a controlled explosion at Halawa, you schmuck,” Danny replies. 

 

“It was a perfectly sound tactical decision!”

 

Danny waves him off in favor of watching him set the box down and take the museum’s files out of it. “So what exactly are these things?” he asks, reaching in and grabbing what looks like a piece of coal, only a little shinier.

 

Kono’s reaction is instant, reaching out and gripping his wrist tight. “What the  _ hell _ , Danny, do you have any idea--”

 

The air crackles around them, growing heavier with every passing second, and if it weren’t for the change in Chin’s posture, or the fire he swears he can see in Kono’s eyes, or the fact that Steve has fallen to the floor because he has actual  _ fins _ , he might just write this off as another weird day at the office. He opens his mouth to say as much, but nothing comes out.

 

Nothing.

 

_ Nada _ .

 

He’d curse, but he’s afraid that maybe that’s exactly the problem.

 

\--

 

“So, I’m going to go with the obvious question here,” Kono says, eyes wide, staring at Steve lying on the floor, struggling to sit up now that his legs are bound together. “What the  _ fuck  _ just happened?”

 

“I’m going to go on the record as saying that at least this time, it’s not my fault,” Steve replies.

 

Danny wants to respond, to have a chance to defend himself because how was he supposed to know that a shiny rock would do something like turn Steve into an actual mermaid, but he can’t because apparently Steve’s not the only one who’s been affected.

 

For the time being, Danny Williams is cursed to silence, because Grace had the common sense to dress him as a mime.

 

“Is somebody going to get me off the floor?”

 

Chin jumps to action, kneeling down and offering Steve a hand. “Sorry, brah. Kono, can you pull that chair over here?”

 

Kono raises her arm, ready to reach out and grab the back of the chair, only to have it come to her instead, quickly rolling the few feet between them until the back settles into the cup of her palm. To say that they’re all surprised would be an understatement.

 

“Um.”

 

Now even Steve seems concerned. “The fuck.”

 

“I’m...all shook up,” Chin says, frowning as though he doesn’t know why he said that and also isn’t entirely sure where it came from. 

 

“You are not allowed to quote Elvis right now, Chin,” Steve groans. “Not now, not ever, please stop.”

 

It probably goes without saying, but it doesn’t stop.

 

\--

 

The longer the night goes on, a really disturbing trend starts to make itself present.

 

“Steve,” Kono says, waving a hand in front of his face. “You there?”

 

“Huh?” He shakes his head, blinking a few times before focusing on the contents of the table in front of them. He’s confined to the office chair until further notice, and Steve is nothing if not very visibly displeased. “Sorry. I, uh, just got distracted by Chin’s suit. It’s very… shiny.”

 

“Thank you,” Chin replies, dimpled features out in full force. “Thank you very much.”

 

Danny gently beats his head against the surface of the table. It’s possible that he’s praying for the sweet release of death, not that he could tell anyone that.

 

On any other day he’s positive that Steve would make some crack about Chin taking this Halloween thing a little too far, but he’s already digging through the box of artifacts again, ignoring the protests of everyone around him to not touch them with his bare hands, and that spacey look is back in his eyes. 

 

“ _ Steve _ ,” Chin says.

 

He sets something on the table that, oddly enough, looks like a bone. “Sorry, it’s just... this stuff’s pretty neat.”

  
Danny’s face is probably turning red under all his makeup from being unable to verbalize even one of the many jokes sitting on the tip of his tongue. And there are  _ many _ . And he has no one to blame but himself.

 

\--

 

It’s been hours. Long, agonizing hours spent staring at the monitors in front of them, typing away at the one below them, looking for anything,  _ anything _ , that will help them not only solve this case but also get them back to normal. 

 

After the first hour Kono wasn’t allowed to touch any of the technology anymore, or anything flammable for that matter, because as it turns out Pele is the goddess of  _ fire _ , so Danny takes over the keyboards. It works out in a way, considering that’s the only way he can communicate with the team. 

 

Another hour and a half goes by and they still have nothing on the security footage, nothing else comes up in the physical evidence even with the help of the list of artifacts that weren’t present when the museum took inventory after the robbery. They have a few leads, lines on one or two less than savory dealers on the island who specialize in such rare items, but it’s not like they can leave the building to run them down, so they catalogue what they can while Chin sings a horribly off-key rendition of “Are You Lonesome Tonight?” for reasons that are beyond Danny.

 

By hour three, Kono can create fireballs in the palm of her hand, Steve still can’t stand up on his own, and Chin won’t stop humming under his breath. Danny has never had particularly violent thoughts about his entire team before - with the exception of Steve, of course - but the lack of progress combined with sleep deprivation and no end in sight are making him irritable beyond belief.

 

It’s now 4:30 in the morning, and Danny wants nothing more than to go home, crawl in bed, and pass out until he feels like he can deal with the world and/or Steve again. Whichever comes first. Honestly, on any given day, it’s kind of a crapshoot. That’s just the way his life is now.

 

Kind of like them ever figuring out what’s going on here. He’s trying very hard to not act out what he wants to communicate, but the draw to do it grows stronger with every passing minute as the curse begins to settle into their bones. Kono’s getting close to being able to throw actual flames and Chin won’t stop warbling about hound dogs, and Steve keeps getting distracted by his own reflection and things that look vaguely like forks.

 

So he searches, and he digs, and he wanders into the darkest corners of the internet he can find, and still, he turns up nothing. He’s beginning to think that this is never going to end. He even emails Toast, who proves to be completely useless.  “Not my specialty, brah, but next time you’re in town let’s get chicken and waffles.”

 

Danny has never clicked delete so fast in his life. 

 

\--

 

In the end, it’s all pretty anticlimactic. 

 

The night doesn’t conclude with their usual brand of firepower and explosives, but rather with the rising sun and a gentle breeze. Th heaviness in the air lifts gradually, taking their alternate personalities with them. Steve, to the surprise of absolutely no one, starts doing calisthenics the second he realizes he can walk like a human being again. Chin immediately removes his jacket and cards his fingers through his hair, anything he can do to make himself Chin Ho Kelly again. Kono, on the other hand, just ties her hair back and kicks her feet up, happy to let the intensity of Pele leave her body and transform back to her usual laid back North Shore self. 

 

It’s kind of unbelievable, all things considered

 

By the time the sun has fully risen in the sky, they’ve all come to a very clear understanding that silence is absolutely imperative to keeping this between the four of them.

 

“Worse than the bananas,” Kono says.

 

They all nod in agreement.

 

“Maybe that should be our safe word,” Danny suggests. He’s met with the surprised stares of his teammates. “What? We all turned into our costumes and  _ that’s  _ what gets you?”

 

“That,” Steve replies, pointing a finger at Danny, his face stern. “Will never be a thing we do. Ever.”

 

Chin and Kono both cringe. That...sounded a lot worse than he’d intended it to, but there’s really nothing Steve can say to defend himself at this point. After tonight, Danny is willing to roll with just about anything.

 

“That’s not what I was talking about, but way to make things weird, Steve.”

 

There’s a long pause, the four of them just sitting around the computer table in the early morning light of November 1st, gathered in quiet celebration as the clock ticks in the corner.

 

“I’m gonna go now,” Kono says.

 

“Later,” Chin echoes, waving over his shoulder as he follows Kono out the door.

 

“We should go, too,” Steve agrees, wrapping an arm around Danny’s shoulder.

 

The walk out to the parking lot is quiet, and Danny is too tired to fight about who gets to drive, so he tosses Steve the keys and walks to the other side of the car.

 

“If you ever,” Danny says, buckling his seatbelt as Steve climbs into the driver seat. “And I mean  _ ever _ , bring up bananas again, I swear to god, Steve, I will punch you, and then I will stock your fridge, your cabinets, every space in your house full of the damn things, and then I will never speak to you again. Do you understand?”

 

Steve smiles, turns the ignition and backs the car out of the lot. “Whatever you say, mai’a.”

 

\--

 

After at least 8 hours of sleep, three cups of coffee and one spectacular round of sex, Danny decides to look up the meaning of that word. It sounded sweet, almost fond, rolling off of Steve’s tongue as he’d smiled and driven them home and --

 

He’s going to kill Steve. He’s going to murder him dead.

 

Right after he goes to the grocery store.

**Author's Note:**

> It means banana, because Steve is a shit and I like him that way. Please don't ask about the bananas, because I don't have an answer. I just *clenches fist* really hate bananas.
> 
> Thanks to [kho](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kho) for all the help and for laughing at my dumb jokes.
> 
> I feel like the "established relationship" tag is a little misleading but also like. There are definitely mentions of the fact that they're together. So yay! I literally wrote this today and I'm very tired, please be gentle.
> 
> COMMENTS AND KUDOS ARE LOVE. Come chill with me on [Tumblr](piratefalls.tumblr.com).


End file.
